How The World Ends
by Gindokei
Summary: Maybe Kimblee wasn't the only one who wanted to know how the world ends. A series of short, dark and/or sad oneshots about how the world would end for various FMA characters. T for swearing. No. 3 - Alphonse.
1. Edward

_How The World Ends_

**AN: I know I already have two – no, three – series going on… but I couldn't resist. I really couldn't. I'm going to try to make this as non-cliché as possible.**

**Disclaimer: All characters of **_**Fullmetal Alchemist**_** belong to Hiromu Arakawa – not me.**

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**Edward

"Alphonse… we did it… _we did it_…" Edward felt a dull throbbing in his head as he muttered into the floor. "He… he's gone… and your body… oh God, Alphonse, _your body_…"

Edward Elric wasn't the type of person to break down into tears, but he had to force them back now. He was just so _happy_ – everything they'd worked for, all the pain they'd suffered, everything seemed completely worth it. He blinked rapidly as he rolled over, staring at the darkness above.

_Where am I?_ His vision seemed fuzzy. He remembered that – that _creature_ that looked so much like his father – activating the circle. He remembered a pure white space, the familiar door looming in front of him, and he remembered turning around to see the door's mirror image facing him, a malnourished, blond-haired body seated in front of the gateway…

The tears pressed forward insistently, and he closed his eyes as he allowed them to trickle down his cheeks. What did he have to hide now?

"Alphonse… Al…" he whispered, opening his eyes and looking around. His hair felt matted, and he reached up a hand to touch it – when he drew the metal fingers(they were still metal… still metal…) away, there was red on them.

Blood. Whose blood? He couldn't remember. Was it his own?

It didn't matter.

"Hey… Al… where are you?" A foreign emotion made his throat close over, and his next words came out as a soft, choking noise instead. Hohenheim – _the bastard_ – had been fighting his doppelganger, hadn't he? And then… and then…

His head swam.

He'd _died_.

Edward suddenly felt contrite about calling his dead father a bastard.

Well, at least he was with his mother now… but where the hell was Al…?

He spied a small bundle, half-hidden by the shadows. Edward didn't even bother getting to his feet and crawled over hurriedly, anxious to check on his brother, anxious to see his living face again…

His long blond hair was tangled and unkempt. In an uncharacteristic display of tenderness, Edward brushed it away from his brother's face. Alphonse was curled in a fetal position, his eyes screwed shut. Edward swallowed at the sight of his younger brother's skinny frame – his ribs were clearly visible, and his arms were no more than sticks…

"Don't worry, Al," he whispered to his unconscious brother. "You'll be fine in a couple of weeks. I'll take you to the military hospital, and we'll get you up and running before you know it." He dashed one arm across his eyes. "Think of how happy everyone's going to be… although I'm gonna get so much crap for not being able to get my limbs back… but that doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're here, with me, and you're… oh God…"

The tears were still dripping down his cheeks, and Edward scrubbed at his face, ashamed of his weakness. But he was so _glad_.

Alphonse did not respond.

Edward patted his brother's head gently. "We've been through hell, haven't we?" he murmured. "But we're home again. And we're going to stay here, aren't we?"

No response. And Edward suddenly realized how silent his surroundings were.

His heart racing, he pressed two fingers to his brother's neck, hunting for a pulse. Nothing. Biting his lip, Edward lowered his head to Alphonse's chest, praying, praying to hear it, the thrum of his living, beating heart…

Silence.

Nothing.

Edward lifted his head and sat back, staring in front of him numbly. Alphonse's lips were turned up at the corners in a faint smile. He was… he was _sleeping_, dammit! He was only unconscious! There had to be an explanation for this!

"Al," he spoke his brother's name harshly, "Al, stop messing around. Get up."

Nothing.

"Alphonse," Edward spoke again, his voice cracking, "this isn't funny. Quit it."

Nothing.

Edward screwed his eyes shut and slumped forward, allowing the tears to fall again. Blindly, he reached out and clutched his brother's cold hand – why hadn't he realized how cold it was? – and hugged it to his chest, feeling his throat tighten and his body shake with sobs.

"No, Al, no," he wept, and for the first time, there was no one there to reply.

_This is how the world ends._

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_**AN: That last line is how every little piece will end. Yes, Edward isn't an overly emotional person by nature, but he'd thought his brother was alive, and he found out he wasn't – I think far stronger people would break down and go mad.**

**It's probably **_**still**_** clichéd, but I can't think of any other way of Ed's world ending – now he has no family left whatsoever.**

**I'm sorry it's so sad! D:**

**710 words.**


	2. Winry

_How The World Ends_

**AN: I am twisting the situation in chapters 46 and 47.**

**Disclaimer: If I did own **_**Fullmetal Alchemist**_**, I'd never do this to the characters – no, really! – but I don't, so it doesn't matter. Everything belongs to Ms. Hiromu Arakawa.**

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**Winry

The memories invaded her senses. Her mother's voice – "hey there, baby girl" – her father's arms – the smell of her mother's perfume – the feel of her father's scratchy stubble as he rubbed his cheek against hers –

"Give them back!" she screamed, clutching her head with her hands as tears streamed down her face. The large, muscled Ishbalan stared at her expressionlessly, and Winry's tears increased.

_How could he… how… they never hurt him, they were just trying to help…_

Her eyes darted to the side, searching for something she could throw at him, something heavy, something sharp… and they landed on something else entirely.

The metal of the gun caught sunlight and glinted dully. Without thinking, Winry reached out with shaking hands, her fingers wrapping around the weapon. She heard a sharp intake of breath and then Edward shouted – "Winry, let go of that!"

"You shouldn't be anywhere near something like that!" Alphonse added. She didn't bother to look in their direction. What did they know? They hadn't… she wouldn't… she _needed_ to hurt him. Hurt him like he'd hurt her, hurt him so badly that he'd _begin_ to imagine how painfully her heart had ached when the news came. She had to do this.

She lifted the gun so that the muzzle was parallel to the ground and aimed it at Scar. Her hands trembled, but she held the weapon steady even as tears slipped down her damp cheeks. Her eyes felt raw and her throat felt dry – but she'd never been surer of what to do.

_Just do it_.

Swallowing, her dry throat aching, she hooked one finger so that it rested on the trigger of the gun.

"Winry, drop that right now!" Edward yelled, and she sensed his frustration and disbelief. "Don't… please, Winry, I'm begging you, don't shoot!"

A shudder wracked her body and she set closed her eyes for a millisecond, wondering what would happen if she listened to him and just dropped the gun. Would she be happy? Would she be content with letting her parents' killer escape without punishment?

_No._

She needed to be strong! She needed to see this through!

But you're talking about murder, a soft voice spoke in her head. You want to kill this man in front of you. Is this the right thing to do?

_Why not? He killed my parents!_

Two wrongs don't make a right.

_I… I…_

Don't lose sight of yourself.

Her throat closed over and she felt her grip on the gun weaken ever so slightly. At that moment, Scar chose to direct an alchemical attack towards Edward. Winry felt her body freeze as Edward launched himself out of the way and hurtled towards her, his expression pleading.

"Winry… don't…"

Her finger pressed down. It was a purely reflexive action – her mind stopped functioning and her body acted of its own accord. Her finger pressed down on the trigger and the gun released a single bullet.

Edward's face twisted – _in pain?_ – as he thudded onto the ground before her. His body had contorted in a weird fashion, and his fingers clutched at one side, where something red was leaking out and staining his white gloves –

_Oh God, no! No!_

She dropped the gun immediately, her eyes burning with more tears. "Ed!" she cried, reaching out to him. He flinched ever so slightly, and Winry recoiled.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her body shaking. "I'm so sorry… I didn't…"

Edward's golden eyes glazed over.

"No!" She didn't care who was watching – didn't care that Alphonse was on his way over, didn't care that Scar was only a few feet away – she reached out for him and pulled his body into her arms. She cradled his head against her chest, hugging him to herself, whispering fervent apologies into his hair.

"Ed, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, just get up… please just get up, open your eyes, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

She heard Alphonse saying something as if from a great distance, but she couldn't tell what he was saying, couldn't concentrate on anything but the pale, still face in front of her. Edward should have gotten up… hit her… blushed… _moved_… he wasn't…

"Ed," she whispered, pleading. "Ed, please."

He didn't reply.

She inhaled sharply and began to shudder, sobs spilling out of her, accompanied by an incoherent apology – but he couldn't hear her, he would never hear her again, because he was dead and _she had killed him_.

_This is how the world ends._

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_**AN: Imagine, if Winry had suddenly pressed the trigger when Edward was trying to shield her? I don't know how this scenario came to me. There's a lot of crying, but there was a lot of crying in the original chapters, too.**

**Not as good as Edward's, probably, but still. I like writing Winry.**

**I know Winry is thinking viciously near the middle. But I think any sane person would want to exact a terrible revenge on the person who'd killed their parents…**

**750 words.**


	3. Alphonse

_How The World Ends_

**AN: Alphonse's turn. –unenthusiastic cheer-**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Fullmetal Alchemist**_**. I think that's actually a good thing.**

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**Alphonse

"_What… what was that… I felt like I suddenly knew _everything_…"_

"_Quite something, wasn't it, mister alchemist?"_

"_Just one look – please, just one more look. I want to…"_

"_Oh, no, I'm afraid that's quite impossible. That's all you get to see for the price you paid."_

"_The… price…?"_

"_Of course. You remember the law of equivalent exchange, don't you, alchemist?"_

Pain seared through his body. The young boy let out a howl of anguish as he clutched at his left shoulder. Blood gushed sluggishly out of the open wound and trickled past his fingers, down his arm, dripping on the floor. He screwed his eyes shut, too overwhelmed by what he'd seen and what he was experiencing.

"Big brother… big brother, are you there?" he called out in a whisper, longing for comfort. The transmutation had failed – he was sure of that much, and the rebound had cost him his left arm.

_The price you paid…_

Alphonse shook his head, eyes still shut. "Brother?" he called again, raising his voice. Maybe Edward, too, had experienced a rebound and was huddled in a corner. "Big brother? Where are you?"

No reply. Alphonse's eyelids flew open, and his breath came out in short, quick gasps. His eyes darted around the room, and he didn't even realize how cold his surroundings had become all of a sudden. Then his gaze landed on the circle they'd made.

Twin pinpoints of light looked at him beseechingly. The creature's deformed body writhed and flailed as its jaws opened wide and it retched. Alphonse flinched and shrunk away from it, hugging his knees to his chest with his single hand. He watched the creature they'd created until it finally slumped forward, dead.

Then he remembered Edward.

"Brother!" he cried out, growing panicked. "Brother, where are you?" He swallowed in an attempt to dislodge the hard knot forming in his throat. Staggering to his feet, Alphonse cast around blindly for something to hold onto as the truth hit him.

"He's gone… he's gone…" he whispered, feeling tears streak down his cheeks. "He can't… big brother…"

He crumpled to his knees once more, vaguely aware of the piece of chalk resting next to his knee and the old suit of armor mounted on the wall across from him. Alphonse stared at the light gleaming off the metal and tried to arrange his thoughts into something that, at the very least, resembled order.

"I won't let you go, brother," he whispered, getting to his feet and shakily making his way across the room, chalk gripped firmly in his hand. When he had successfully pulled down the suit of armor with his single hand, he fell to his knees and knocked the helmet off, hesitantly dipping one finger into his wound and wincing at the sensation. He hastily scrawled a rune on the inside of the suit, barely aware of the tears still dripping down his cheeks.

"Please," he muttered pleadingly. "Please, just bring him back… I can't lose him, I _can't_…" Gritting his teeth, Alphonse tried to remember what the circle for binding a soul entailed.

Choking and coughing, he drew the circle next to the suit of armor, his hand trembling. The pain had dulled to a steady throb, and he paid no attention to it.

He swallowed again as the chalk fell from his nerveless fingers. He placed his hand on the chalk drawing, concentrating with all his might, willing his brother's soul into the suit of armor…

"Big brother," he choked out. There was no reply.

Alphonse stared dumbly at the transmutation circle, unwilling to believe it. "No… no, no, _NO_!" he suddenly shrieked, slamming the stick of chalk against the ground. It shattered under the impact.

Maybe he'd just remembered the circle incorrectly… he'd only caught a glimpse of it, after all. Scrubbing at his face, Alphonse rubbed out the circle and picked up a tiny shard of chalk, painfully aware of how his chest was tightening and his breath was coming out in sharper bursts.

Again and again and again, until he was rubbing his fingertips against the rough wooden floor because the chalk fragments had worn down to nothing. He fell forward, sobbing, the pain returning in full force. _No, no, no… it wasn't supposed to be like this!_

Outside, a single crow let out a derisive caw.

_This is how the world ends._

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_**AN: Okay, so I know Ed merely claps his hands together in the manga to bind Al's soul to the armor, but if I made Al lose his arm instead… there has to be **_**some**_** sort of transmutation circle to alchemically attach the soul to the blood seal, right?**

**These pieces just get worse and worse… I'm sorry. I know it doesn****'****t seem terribly original, either. You guys might not like it all that much, but this piece holds a special place in my heart, just like all the others.**

**729 words.**


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